Gorillaz : Icicle
by RottingZombieCorpse
Summary: CHAPTER 2 IS UP but unfinished. But I felt like a douche not giving it to you sooner so deal with it.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Gorillaz ain't mine. If they were ... oh, so many things I could screw around with...

AU: I'm a pervert, so in conclusion, I wrote Murdoc/Noodle. Because Muds has so much more to offer than 2D. Wrote this the day after 'Gorillaz : Cold' during Latin. So, sorry if it's a little jambled.

He wasn't paying attention to the conversation that fluttered about the room, in desperation to make things interesting. Murdoc had been like that for a while now, actually. The cigarette dangling from his lips was slowly wasting away, not being used to it's full extent. Occasionally it would drop ash between the Satanist's Jean-clad thighs and onto the threadbare sofa below, into a small pile of ash that had met it's doom before the newer did.  
For the entire time he'd been sitting there, his mismatched eyes were focused on the pair who lounged on the love seat a few feet from the sofa he and Russell shared. Noodle had latched herself onto 2D's arm (though the dullard was probably too hopped up on painkillers to really notice anything at all), and had remained just like that for a week, now, never releasing the man unless one or the other needed to use the toilet or sleep ... that kind of thing.  
He, however, would never admit to anyone that'd in this case, he'd be glad to switch places with the vocalist any given moment.  
The large black man beside Murdoc nudged him gently. When he looked over to Russell, the percussionist shot him a gaze that meant nothing more than "Stop staring, you gigantic freak."  
Moments passed, and the bassist finally inhaled the smoke from the now-burning filter. He dropped the butt onto the shag carpet below. He stood, crushing it with the heel of his boot before striding casually away without a word to the other members of the band he'd deemed 'Gorillaz' two or three years ago.  
Once escaping to the safe-although-putrid-smelling confines of his Winnebago, he headed to the fridge, grabbing one beer to start off with before crashing onto his ripping, stained mattress, popping the cap off the bottle and taking a swig of the amber liquid within. Murdoc figured he had a good plan, get shifted as Hell and pass out until pass noon the following day.  
However things did not go as planned. After drinking half of the twelve-pack, he couldn't stop thinking about the 14-year-old Japanese guitarist, his axe princess. That fucking dullard took her away. At this rate, he'd be sleeping with the girl before next month.  
Unless...  
Murdoc got up, discarding his half-empty bottle of beer onto the filthy carpet below and exited the 'Bago, heading inside Kong Studios...

Me: VIVE LA CHAPTER ONE! I'm afraid that the next chapter will have to be posted on my livejournal, because frowns upon NC-17 stuffs. Review and I'll find your email address, and notify you when it's up. Thanks! 3


	2. Chapter 2

Murdoc woke up late the next afternoon due to an unpleasant churning deep in his stomach, a sort of messenger that he had drunken way too much the previous night and should probably just smoke a joint or two and go back to bed. Blurry-eyed, he turned to the electric alarm clock on the floor by his bed. Red, digital numbers informed the Satanist that it was 2:43 PM, and that if he didn't get his ass up soon, someone would walk into the Winnebago and force him awake. But he was too damn tired and too sick to care so he rolled over onto his side and found himself face-to-face with the small Japanese guitarist affectionately deemed Noodle. She was still asleep, and looked quite comfortable.

Aaaand, he also noticed, she was stark naked.

So they'd… gone at it? Murdoc glanced back down at the floor and into a small shopping bag he'd been using as a wastebasket. Lying there was a used condom. _…. When's the last time I used a rubber? _He continued staring at it a moment before getting up, getting dressed quickly before exiting the 'Bago, in hopes of avoiding the awkwardness that was almost guaranteed to an almost-40-year-old man after fucking a 14-year-old.

Once out of the camper, he ran a hand through his greasy hair, heading inside with a plan to pilfer two of the best painkillers 2D possessed. After heading into the kitchen, forcing the bottle of prescription pills from the vocalist and downing four, or maybe five of said pills, he sat down at the table across from Russel, who was fucking fat and jolly as he usually was.

"Yeh seen Noods?" 2D asked, more to himself than to anybody else.  
The bassist offered only a slight shake of his head, leaning back and letting the pills do their job.

"S'usually up by now…" Stupot continued, playing with a strand of his hair.  
"Mebbe the zombies got 'er?" Murdoc suggested, staring down at the table, still feeling nauseous.

2D's er, voids went wide as he looked from Murdoc to Russel. "Yeh think tha's wha 'appened?"

"Nicalls, stop bein' a jackass." The drummer commanded, glaring at him.  
"Wha? It coulda 'appened. You've seen 'ow them zombies can get after a rainstorm."

"…Noodle got eaten by a zombie." The vocalist reflected shakily, obviously thinking the worst.

"Eh, Mebbe she jus' got turned into one. Might see 'er tonight. Too bad we'll 'ave ta kill 'er."

2D just stood there, the same horrified expression on his face. Then Noodle walked in, half-asleep and still in whatever it was that she was wearing the previous night before it was discarded onto the trash-strewn floor of the Winne. Suddenly, she found herself attacked by a blue-haired man, rambling on about zombies. At the table, Murdoc was laughing himself into hysteria and Russel was getting up to leave, a defeated look on his face.


End file.
